


A New Design For X and Y

by imeanthis4ever



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: LeATHERMØUTH Era Frank Iero, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Gerard Way, Trans Frank Iero, Trans Gerard Way, Trans Male Character, bandom au - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 21:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19934668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imeanthis4ever/pseuds/imeanthis4ever
Summary: Frank Iero is the frontman in a successful band called Leathermouth, and Gerard Way is a comic writer working for DC.  When they meet at one of Frank's shows, their mutual respect for the other's work becomes something a lot more personal.  Oh and Frank's a trans guy and Gerard's nonbinary because I'm Trans And I Make The Rules.





	A New Design For X and Y

Frank’s played shows in quite a few cities over the years, what with being in almost too many bands to count and spending what feels like more time touring than not. He’s had great crowds, great venues, shitty crows, shitty venues, and just about everything in between. He can honestly say, without a shadow of doubt, that Jersey is still his favorite place in the world.

He’s been on the road with Leathermouth for the past 5 months, and as much as he loves it, he's ready to be back in his apartment using his own shower and sleeping in his own bed. The other guys all seem to agree, since they unloaded their stuff and schlepped it back to their respective haunts in record time. They’ve still got local shows coming up but that’s nothing compared to the grueling schedule of sleeping on the bus and playing in a different city almost every night.

“No place like home,” Frank mutters to himself as he sets his bags down to unlock his door. He sounds tired but he really means it. He drags everything inside but makes no effort to unpack; instead he kicks off his shoes, shrugs off his coat and heads straight for the bedroom. Frank means to at least brush his teeth or change into pajamas, he really does. He ends up collapsing onto the bed and passing out.

\- - -

Gerard picks a seat on the train near the window, adjusts their headphones, and settles in for the daily commute into the city. Much as they’re not a morning person it’s pretty nice to take the train from Jersey to Queens, sipping the first of many coffees and daydreaming as the cars rattle soothingly. Their soundtrack this morning is a hardcore punk band called Leathermouth from their own hometown. The screaming wakes them up along with the coffee, and they remember they’ve got tickets to a Leathermouth show next week.

 _Awesome_. Gerard smiles to themself, still gazing out the window and humming along to the music. It’s been too long since their last concert, but they’ve been so busy lately. Not that they can complain, since they’re finally doing what they’d always dreamed about. A comic writer for DC! Umbrella Academy had been their breakthrough into the industry, and now they were writing Doom Patrol, fucking Doom Patrol! _Not bad Way, not bad at all._

\- - -

As usual, Frank and the guys had gotten to the venue several hours early for set-up and soundcheck, and now they’ve got too much spare time on their hands. “Hurry up and wait” is what they liked to call it, and it meant you’d better bring something to occupy yourself if you didn’t want to end up pacing around backstage until your shoes wore out. Frank’s been leafing through the latest issue of the new Doom Patrol run. It’s by the same guy who wrote The Umbrella Academy a few years back, which Frank had enjoyed. It was a bit like the X-Men, he thought, if the X-Men were a darker, more fucked up dysfunctional family. After reading it twice through he’s mostly just admiring the art and paneling on his favorite pages, but it’s a better distraction than inhaling a whole pack of cigarettes or giving himself dreadlocks with glue. Frank shudders at the memory of that particular fiasco, running his hands over the stubbly buzz cut on his head as if to reassure himself that the dreads aren’t still there.

By the time they need to start getting ready to go onstage for their set Frank is ansty enough to jump out of his skin. He pulls his hoodie off and tosses it with his stuff, prompting a laugh from Dewees.

“Hey Frankie, think you can manage to keep your shirt on this time?” he teases.

“Not a chance, I paid good money to not have to wear a shirt in public, I’m getting my money’s worth.” Frank’s not bothered by the friendly banter, since James has been known to go shirtless on stage once or twice and doesn’t really have a leg to stand on.  
They make it through maybe the first two songs before Frank pulls his shirt off and throws it aside to be picked up later. He thinks he sees Dewees roll his eyes somewhere in his peripheral vision, but it’s hard to be sure when he’s writhing around getting tangled in the mic cord and screaming like a banshee. Either way, he’s having too much fun to care.

\- - -

Gerard’s listened to Leathermouth enough to know most of the songs by heart, and they’ve seen a few recordings on youtube, but it’s nothing compared to seeing them live. The energy is incredible, and Gerard can tell from the buzz in the venue that it’s gonna be a great show before the band even comes on. When they do go on and the (kinda hot) frontman, Frank, introduces them with “I’m the faggot from Leathermouth and these are my friends,” Gerard thinks they might be a little in love. The thing they really weren’t prepared for was when, just a couple songs into the set, Frank pulls his shirt off and Gerard stops screaming along to just stare. Most of the crowd sees nothing surprising about the sweaty, chubby, tattooed punk screaming bloody murder in the packed venue, what with the dim lights and rolling around on the stage and the people moshing in front. But despite all of that Gerard spots the scars on Frank’s chest and feels a jolt run through their body like lightning. The words "Frank is trans" echo in their mind. _Those are top surgery scars. Frank is trans, he’s like me._

It’s not like it was a _secret_ , exactly. Frank couldn’t have made a habit of going shirtless on stage without people catching on, and his of course his bandmates knew. It just wasn’t something that was brought up a lot, and a casual fan like Gerard wouldn’t have known. In fact, Gerard was willing to bet they were one of the few people in the audience who even recognized top surgery scars when they saw them.

After recovering from the initial shock and joy of finding out that a musician they liked was _like them, holy shit a trans punk singer_ , Gerard made a mental note to approach him after the set. Right now they had a concert to enjoy the hell out of. And if they yelled the lyrics back at Frank with even more fervor than before, feeling connected by their shared experience as gender outlaws, well. That was between Gerard and the music.

\- - -

Frank is dead on his feet after the set, but he really wants to stick around to talk to the fans for a bit. He knows what it’s like to live and breathe music, to only feel alive when you’re screaming your heart out in some filthy bar surrounded by sweaty strangers who are just as likely to hug you as they are to deck you in the face because everyone’s pumped up on adrenaline and the sound of the bassline. He’s been on both sides of that experience and he wants to share it with as many people as possible, he wants his shows to feel like a home to all the kids who come to see them, just like other shows were for him when he needed it most.

And most of the fans _are_ teenagers, kids with more heart than they know what to do with, kids who need a night away from their life, kids who need to scream about all the shit they’ve gone through but feel like no one else will hear them. A few of the people in the audience are closer to Frank’s age though, like this one guy with dyed bright red hair who looks pretty flushed and is also _super pretty, like holy shit._ Frank hasn’t seen him around before, he’d definitely remember.

“Hey! How’d you like the show?” Frank can do this, he just has to act normal. That’s about the most basic question he could be asking, so he’s off to a good start.

“It was awesome!” the cute guy gushes. “The energy in your music is so fucking intense, and not every band can translate that to a live performance but you guys totally blew me away.”

“”Glad to hear it!” Frank beams, feeling a rush of pride at the compliment. He extends his hand to introduce himself and notes that this dude has really soft hands wow.

“I’m Frank, nice to meet you!”

“I’m Gerard.” The guy- Gerard- has a really nice smile.

“Gerard? That’s not a name you hear every day. What’s your story, Gerard?”

“I’m a comic writer, I work for DC actually. Honestly some days it’s hard to believe that’s really my job, it’s been my dream since I was a kid.” That’s a story Frank’s more than familiar with.

“I know what you mean, music’s been my life since I was 11 so doing it for a living is….“ _Wait a minute. Comics, DC_ ….. “Wait, Gerard… Gerard _Way_?”

Gerard’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You’ve heard of me?”

“Dude! You’re writing Doom Patrol, how could I not? I actually have the latest issue with me. That’s… wow.” Frank had not expected Gerard Way to be like _That_.

Gerard laughs and runs a hand through their messy hair. “Yeah, like I said, hard to believe. I grew up on that stuff, you know? And now I’m actually writing it.”

Frank is just about to jump into a conversation about the titles he grew up reading- a conversation that could go on for hours- when Dewees interjects to let him know they need to start breaking down their stuff and going home.

“Oh yeah, shit, you guys must be exhausted. I didn’t mean to keep you,” Gerard apologizes, looking bashful. Which Frank thinks is totally unnecessary because he’d be down to talk about music or comics any time, really, but he doesn’t want to keep the rest of the guys late.

“Don’t sweat it dude, I’m never too tired to talk about comics. Tell you what, take this-” Frank writes his number on a flyer and hands it to Gerard before he can think too hard about it- “and just give me a call if you ever wanna talk comics, or music, or horror movies, whatever. We just got finished touring so we’ll be in town for a while, thankfully.”

If Gerard winces a little when Frank calls them “dude,” Frank doesn’t seem to notice, and the moment Frank hands them his number they forget all about it.

“Wow, um, yeah that would be great, thanks! I’d like to hear your thoughts on Black Flag,” they manage, gesturing to the tattoo on Frank’s arm.

“Oh absolutely.” Frank grins at them for a moment before Dewees yells his name and he remembers what he’s supposed to be doing. “I’ll catch you later!” he calls over his shoulder as he leaves, and Gerard just waves goodbye, not trusting themself to speak. James raises an eyebrow at Frank as he approaches, the words _what was that about?_ written all over his face, but Frank pretends not to notice. He’s not really sure what that was about either. It was nice, whatever it was.

\- - -

The next day is a weekend, which means Gerard can sleep in instead of racing to catch a train in a coffee fueled haze. Somehow they manage to get up before noon, and somewhere in between coffee and showering and shaving and getting dressed and more coffee they get up the nerve to call Frank.

“Hey, it’s me- uh, Gerard. From the show last night. I think I owe you a conversation about Black Flag.” _Smooth, Way, real smooth._

“Oh rad, I’m glad you called! I don’t know how soon you wanted to talk but I’ve got the day off.” Frank hopes that doesn’t seem too eager or forward, but he does have the day off and it’s too late to take it back.

“Works for me,” they reply, and Frank mentally sighs in relief.

“Great, uh, hey man you like coffee?” He hopes that doesn’t sound too much like a date, but it’s the only idea he’s got. Gerard laughs on the other end of the line.

“A guy after my own heart- I never say no to coffee. But uh, I should tell you I’m not a man actually. I’m nonbinary, sort of? I don’t know if that’s the word I’d like to use but I use they/them pronouns.”

 _Wait, Gerard’s trans too?_ Frank is shocked for a minute, but it’s a good kind of shocked.

“I.. that’s totally ok. More than ok. Thanks for letting me know. Ah shit, I probably called you the wrong thing at the show yesterday! I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” Gerard assures him, “most people call me ‘he’ and I just kinda deal with it. I’m not out at my job or anything so it’s mostly just family and friends who know. And I wanted to tell you ‘cause… well when I saw your scars at the show I realized you were trans too and it made me feel a whole new level of connection with you and your music, and I figured you’d understand.”

“Yeah, I definitely get it. So, uh, how about continuing this in person at Goodfillas? It’s a coffee shop kinda near last night’s venue, the name’s a little goofy but I know a lot of the people who work there, it’s a nice place.”

“You like Doom Patrol and Black Flag, I trust your judgement,” Gerard jokes. “And I love the name. How come you know the staff so well, are you that much of a coffee fiend too?”

“Well, yes,” Frank admits, figuring they’re in no place to judge, “but I also know a ton of people in the music scene, and when you’re in a band you can always use a part time job. Most of them are people I know through work.” It’s almost weird to call being in a band “work” though. Not because it’s not hard and grueling sometimes but because it’s so different from a regular 9 to 5 job that “job” doesn’t really cover it, plus it’s the thing he’s most passionate about in the world. It’s hard to call the thing you love to death just “work,” even when it is.

“Makes sense,” Gerard says, and Frank has a feeling they’d understand all the stuff he just thought but didn’t say. Comics must be a bit like that for them, he figures. “I can be there in about 20 minutes, if that works for you?”

“That’s perfect, I’ll see you there.”

“Alright, bye Frank.”

“Bye, Gerard.”

After hanging up he makes sure to save Gerard’s number in his phone, and a thrill goes through him as he types their last name and remembers that this isn’t just any Gerard, this is Gerard _Way_ , DC comic writer whose work Frank loves and who is way prettier than he would have expected and who _likes Frank’s band_. How the hell is this his life.

\- - -

Goodfillas turns out to be just as nice as advertised. It’s an independent shop and not a chain so it’s got a much cozier and more personal atmosphere, with a ton of event flyers covering the bulletin board on one wall and a bunch of chairs that don’t match at all. Gerard thinks they spot a beanbag at one of the back tables.

When they get to the counter to order, the barista seems to be one of the people Frank knows. He seems vaguely familiar to Gerard too, but they figure that’s just his friendly demeanor.

“Ray!” Frank exclaims, “How’ve you been, man?”

“Been doing great, how was the show last night? Sorry I missed it.”

“Ah who cares, you’ve seen me play live more times than I can count. Speaking of which, this is Gerard. They came to my show last night and now I’m gonna judge the rest of their music taste” Frank jokes. He’s kidding about the judgement, sort of.

“They? Right, got it. Ray Toro, nice to meet you.” He extends a hand to Gerard with a warm smile.

“Gerard Way- hold on, I know a Ray Toro from Jersey. Did you go to Belleville High School?”

“Yeah I did.” He chuckles in a way that would seem rueful on anyone else, but he makes it seem genuine. “Man what a small world. Fuckin' Jersey. And high school, geez. Feels like ancient history now. Anyway what can I get you?”

Once they’ve gotten settled at one of the tables (Gerard claimed the beanbag immediately), they get into a discussion about heavy metal and hardcore punk and quickly lose track of time. Frank also tells Gerard a little more about Ray, how he’s one of the people he knows through the music scene and how he’s doing pretty much all the tracks for his current project, Remember the Laughter. Ray had been friendly and laid back and Frank clearly has tremendous respect for the guy, so Gerard decides they like him. They’ll definitely have to come back to Goodfillas if they’re ever in the area.

\- - -

That night, Frank wakes up sometime between really late and really early, out of a dream about Gerard. That in itself wasn’t surprising, since they’d been on his mind a lot. This _particular_ dream- which involved Gerard in Frank’s bed, naked and breathing hard, their body moving against his in just the right way- was perhaps a bit out of the ordinary.

_Is that… is that creepy or normal? It’s not weird to have a sex dream about the person you’re attracted to, is it? People have those all the time, there’s nothing wrong with thinking someone’s hot._

Frank decides not to think too hard about it. He’s got more pressing things to worry about, like the fact that he’s now frustratingly horny. Thinking back to when he first started hrt, he supposes it could be a lot worse. The increase in testosterone and puberty-level hormone fluctuations had amped up his sex drive in a way that would have been kinda funny if it hadn’t been distracting as hell. Still, Frank doesn’t think he’s gonna be able to just ignore it and go back to sleep.

Instead he rolls onto his back and lets his legs fall open, slipping a hand into his boxers and rubbing his fingertips over his dick. Fuck, that’s exactly what he needed. Frank’s already wet from the dream and the easy slide of his fingers has him panting and hard almost immediately. This isn’t going to take long. He starts picturing Gerard again, what they would look like with their face between his legs and their tongue swirling around his dick. His hips roll against his hand almost involuntarily and he bites back a groan as he comes a minute later.

He lies there with his mind blank for a minute, catching his breath. His boxers are definitely a mess, but he’s tired and he’s gonna shower tomorrow morning anyway. Rather than give it another thought, he rolls back over onto his side and passes out.

\- - -

It’s been almost two months since the Leathermouth show. Frank and Gerard have gone out for coffee three more times, Gerard’s been to another one of Frank’s shows, and Frank’s invited them to see Ray perform at a local bar (which they had loved, the guy was just as good as Frank had hyped him up to be). They’ve talked about everything from X-Men and whether Magneto was right to the afterlife and the supernatural and being raised Catholic (neither of them still practice but they agree that there are parts of it that never leave you). Gerard still gets a rush of butterflies in their stomach every time Frank calls, and it’s starting to look like a genuine, unavoidable crush.

The thing is, they can’t figure out whether Frank feels the same way. Sure he’s talked to them for hours about the impressive number of things they have in common, he admires Gerard as an artist, he’s sweet and attentive and seems genuinely interested in Gerard’s thoughts and opinions. But that doesn’t mean he has _feelings_ for them. Part of Gerard wants to ask one of Frank’s friends about it. Maybe Ray, but do they know him well enough to ask him something like that? Maybe if they wait longer they’ll figure it out. Maybe they should flirt more obviously?

 _This is ridiculous_ , Gerard thinks, _just be an adult and talk to Frank about it._ Easier said than done. They deliberate for another few minutes before deciding to just dial Frank’s number and rip the bandaid off. Worst case scenario Frank’s not interested, which is fine. Gerard’s happy to be his friend either way. They ignore the little voice that says the worst case scenario is that it makes things too weird and Frank doesn’t want to talk to them anymore.

“Hey, Gee, what’s up?” Hearing Frank’s voice almost makes them lose their nerve. _Come on Gerard, you can do this._

“Hey Frank, I uh…. Ok so before I chicken out I just wanted to tell you something. I uh, I like you. I mean you know I like you, I hang out with you all the time, that’s not what I meant. I… I have feelings for you. Like in a romantic way. But it’s fine if you don’t, I just wanted you to know, just in case I guess. Wow I’m rambling now, I’ll hang up-”

“Gerard, wait!” Frank’s stomach is still doing flips but he can’t let that be the end of it. “It’s not- I-” _Breathe, Iero._ “The feeling’s mutual, it’s- hold on a minute. I like you too. I didn’t- I wasn’t sure if you did and I didn’t want to say something and make it weird if you didn’t feel the same, but I think you’re gorgeous and charming and just… fuckin’ magnetic, I don’t know. Thank you. For telling me.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a long moment, then,

“Oh thank god.” Gerard’s nerves are still jittery but it’s not nearly as bad. They haven’t botched anything yet, and Frank _likes them back._ “So. I uh, wasn’t expecting to get this far, to be honest. But I guess the next thing is... Do you maybe wanna try dating? Only if you want, I mean, it wouldn’t be that different from what we’ve been doing anyway-”

“Gerard. I’d love to.” This phone call had turned into way more than Frank was expecting, but in the best possible way. “Shit, I almost can’t believe… How’d we even get here from you coming to one of my shows? Life’s crazy sometimes.”

Gerard has to agree. “It’s pretty incredible. That’s one of the reasons I was hesitant about telling you, I thought it might be weird considering the circumstances. You probably have a lot of fans who think you’re hot so I wasn’t sure I’d be any different.”

“Yeah I’d never date a fan,” Frank agrees, “that’d be weird and kinda sketchy, but I’m a fan of your work too so… I guess we’re pretty even.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Frank can hear the smile in their voice, and he can practically see them biting their lip and grinning in a way that’s both endearing and really fucking hot. After the call Frank just sits in silence for a while and thinks about the fact that they’re _dating_. It’s suddenly much less awkward to remember that he’s had a wet dream about them, and he has to laugh at himself a little. He doesn’t even care about the fact that he’s dating Gerard Way, writer for DC Comics, which is its own combination of amazing and absurd. He’s dating Gerard from Belleville, Gerard who also grew up on comics and horror movies and has the same taste in music as Frank and is funny and kind and beautiful and a nerd and a genius. Frank really hopes he doesn’t fuck this up.

\- - -

Frank invites Gerard over that weekend for dinner, wanting to do something slightly more romantic for their first official date. He loves cooking for people and it’s about time Gerard saw his apartment anyway. After they’ve eaten they move to the couch to peruse Frank’s horror movie collection, which apparently contains several of Gerard’s favorites.

“Dawn of the Dead!” they exclaim, snatching the box to get a better look at it. “This is the best zombie film, I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve seen it. Pretty sure I’ve got it memorized by now.”

  
“So is there any horror film that really scares you? You’re not bothered by blood or gore or clowns or anything?” he asks. Frank’s actually pretty thrilled that they like horror as much as he does, even if it means they won’t need to hold his hand during the scary scenes.

“Nah, the only thing that freaks me out is needles, I hate that shit.”

“Oh yeah?” That’s interesting.

“Yeah, I love tattoos ‘cause it’s like, art but on your body, which is really cool. I love the aesthetics of it but I could never get one, I just stick to fucking up my hair and dying it weird colors.” They sound a little sheepish, which makes Frank frown slightly. As if that’s any less metal.

“Everybody’s got their thing. Needles never bothered me but I prefer tattoos to piercings, I like to use them as a kind of scrapbook. You can read someone’s life story through their tattoos, in a way.”

Gerard’s nodding along in agreement, and Frank figures if anyone would get it, it’s them. Whether it’s tattoos or comic panels, telling a story with pictures is universal. He tilts his head back to give them a better view of the scorpion he had gotten several years ago.

“This is from back when my band first took off and we started touring. I knew it was the only thing I ever wanted to do, so the day before we left I went in and got it done as high on my neck as possible so I could never get another job. It’s a scorpion because I’m arachnophobic, so it forces me to be brave and face my fears.”

Gerard reaches out and traces the tattoo with their fingertips. It’s more of a reflex than anything else, but Frank can’t quite keep his breath from catching at the contact. Gerard probably wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for the fact that their hand is literally on his throat.

“Wow.” The word is just a murmur, and they don’t follow it up with any more commentary. They both stay like that for a few moments, until Gerard looks up at Frank through their lashes and licks their lips, fingers still resting on the spider tattooed on Frank’s neck. Frank swallows, and they definitely noticed it that time. He almost wants to look away, hide from the sudden intensity of their locked gazes, but he’s frozen in place.

Gerard is already in Frank’s personal space, and it doesn’t take much for them to lean in until their noses are almost touching, and Frank can feel their breath ghosting against his face. He figures it’s up to him to close the distance between them, so he leans forward and brushes their lips together, letting one hand move up to tangle in their hair. Gerard lets their mouth fall open slightly in response, and Frank’s tongue traces their lower lip before slipping inside. When he pulls back he catches their lip with his teeth for a moment, and Gerard shivers. They’re slightly dazed and very turned on.

“You know,” Gerard says softly, “I’m not really in the mood for a movie anymore.”

“No?” Frank’s having an equally hard time caring about zombies right now. “I can think of something else we could do.”

“Is that so?” Gerard can’t resist playing along, drawing it out just a little. “What might that be?”

“Why don’t you join me in my room and I’ll show you?”

\- - -

“So how do you wanna do this?” Frank asks once they’re settled on his bed. With the wrong person it’s an arduous discussion to have, but it’s necessary, and both of them being trans should make that aspect much easier.

Gerard considers for a moment. “Umm. Let’s start with you.”

“Ok, uhh. I’d like to wear my strap on if that’s ok. I don’t like people touching my, um, original plumbing, it doesn’t really do anything for me.”

Gerard smirks a little at the euphemism. “Yeah of course. That works for me, I’d rather bottom.”

“Ok cool. Does it bother you if I touch your… what do you want me to call it?” Best to double check before making assumption, Frank thinks.

“My dick? I don’t call it anything different, and yeah you can touch me there if you want.”

“Good to know. Uhh let me go grab my stuff.”

Frank goes to retrieve his dick from his underwear drawer, along with a bottle of lube and a condom. This one’s flesh colored just like his packer, for maximum realism.

“Will uh… will that work for you?” Gerard asks. “You know, since you can’t feel it? I want you to get off too.”

“Oh yeah don’t worry, I’ll enjoy it,” Frank assures them. “I can’t technically feel it, but the way it looks and the shape and the movement… it’s just right, you know?”

“Whatever you say.” Gerard figures Frank knows his own body well enough to know what he likes, and a silicone dick will fill them up just as well as a flesh one, so they put their doubts aside and focus on undressing Frank with their eyes instead.

Frank returns to the bed, leaving his things to the side for now and pulling Gerard into his lap. They giggle as they settle with their knees straddling his hips.

“You gonna sweep me off my feet, Frankie?” Gerard teases, a little breathless. They hover just an inch away from his face, biting their lip.

“You know it babe.” The words are cocky but there’s no hint of banter in his voice. It’s soft and genuine and the sweetest thing Gerard’s ever heard.

Gerard leans in to try and capture the taste, and after a moment Frank feels them melt against him. They make a sound against his mouth that’s half a hum and half a sigh of contentment, and Frank moans a little in response. They both stay like that for a while, kissing slowly, unhurried, exploring each other for the first time. Gerard’s hips start to move against Frank almost unconsciously as they slide their hands into his hair to pull him closer, and Frank hands slide down to grab their ass, making them gasp. He lets his hands slide up Gerard’s hips and waist then, pushing their shirt up as he goes until they break the kiss to take their shirt all the way off.

With Gerard’s chest bare Frank is free to leave kisses down their neck and collarbone, which he does eagerly, nipping every once in a while and making their skin feel tingly and electrified. When he gets to their nipple he circles it teasingly with his tongue before licking back and forth. Gerard lets out a throaty moan and grips his shoulders, enjoying the jolt of pleasure that shoots through their belly as Frank works both nipples until they’re hard. When they can’t sit still anymore they push Frank away just enough to start pulling his shirt up, and he lifts his arms to help them remove it. Once it’s gone Gerard runs their hands over his shoulders and down his chest, tracing the scars under his pecs before leaning in to plant a kiss on each one. They slide their hands and mouth down further to kiss his stomach and Frank squirms a little before pulling their hands up to rest on his shoulders again.

“Alright?” Gerard asks, brow furrowed slightly.

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s nothing,” Frank says hastily. “I’ve uh, gained a little weight recently and I’m still getting used to it. It’s not my favorite thing, is all.”

“Well it’s _my_ favorite thing,” Gerard counters. “You’re sexy and you’re so soft and it feels so fucking good. I want to kiss all the softest parts of you.”

Frank smiles and ducks his head at that.  
“What, is that too cheesy?” Gerard laughs. “‘Cause it’s true.”

“No,” Frank assures them, meeting their eyes again. “No, it was nice.”

Gerard gives him a quick smooch on the nose before playfully shoving him back down on the bed so they can place more wet, open-mouthed kisses on his stomach and hips, paying special attention to the two bird tattoos. They hook their fingers into the waistband of his pants, pausing to raise an eyebrow at Frank in a silent question. When Frank nods they wiggle their eyebrows suggestively, making him chuckle as they unbutton his pants and tug them off. Upon seeing the bulge in Frank’s briefs Gerard makes an appreciative, almost whiny noise and bites their lip. It makes Frank feel really fucking hot. He sits up and reaches for Gerard’s zipper, pressing his mouth against their neck as he shoves their pants down their thighs to reveal their red panties.

“Oh, wow,” Frank breathes, reaching out to cup them through their underwear. Gerard’s already hard, and they whimper a little as they rub themself against Frank’s palm mindlessly, aching for more friction. After a moment he takes his hand away and reaches for the supplies he’d left to the side while Gerard shoves their pants and underwear all the way off, leaving them completely bare. The first thing Frank does is remove his packer and replace it with the dildo, thankful that his briefs double as a harness so he doesn’t have to fight with any straps. He pulls Gerard closer again, and they reach for the condom before he has the chance, tearing the packaging and rolling it onto Frank smoothly. Frank just watches and takes a deep breath.

With Gerard still in his lap, Frank reaches for the lube and echoes the question he had asked earlier.

“How do you wanna do this?”

“Just like this,” Gerard answers, arms thrown loosely over Frank’s shoulders in front of them. Frank can work with that. He pours a little lube on his fingers and reaches between their legs, stroking a few times as they shuffle their thighs further apart and lean forward to rest more of their weight against him. When Gerard seems relaxed Frank pushes a finger in gently, and they gasp a little into his ear. After a few strokes he adds another one and gets a moan this time, and Gerard starts pushing back against his hand, wanting to feel more.

“Mmmh, more, come on Frankie,” they urge, and Frank obliges, adding a third finger. Once the slide starts to feel smooth and easy Frank pulls his hand back and slicks himself up before grasping Gerard’s hips, keeping them steady as they sink down onto his cock. They both stay like that for a minute to give Gerard a chance to adjust, and Frank runs his hands up and down their thighs soothingly.

After a few moments Gerard starts moving back and forth, tentative at first as they search for the right angle. When they get into a slow rhythm Frank slides his hands back up Gerard’s body, roaming over their stomach and chest and reveling in the feeling of their soft skin under his palms.

It’s true that Frank can’t feel his dick, exactly. But he can feel Gerard’s weight and the heat from their body and their hips rocking against his, and that’s all he really needs. Gerard’s movements are more confident now, and watching them ride him like they can’t get enough is doing things to Frank, making him breathe faster and sending sparks through his belly.

“How’s that?” he gasps, wanting to check in even though Gerard’s pretty clearly enjoying themself, head thrown back and eyes half closed. He gets a wordless moan in response.

“So fucking good, _Frankie_.” His name falls from their mouth like a plea, and he takes the hint and starts thrusting harder. Gerard cries out and grips his shoulders tightly, slumping forward again and burying their face against Frank’s neck, letting him take control.

Frank’s happy to do so, gripping their hips and setting a rougher pace that drags the occasional moan from Gerard’s throat as they pant open-mouthed against his neck. He lets one hand stroke their back gently, murmuring praise and nonsense punctuated by groans. He’s pretty close; he can feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in his belly and he doesn’t fight it, just keeps fucking into Gerard and pressing their bodies together. After holding out for another minute he lets go, rhythm faltering as the orgasm pulses through him. Gerard’s not far behind, clutching at the hands still resting on their hips as they grind against Frank desperately. They’re fucking _loud_ , Frank notes, as if they weren’t hot enough before. He watches them arch their back as they come against his stomach, feeling the shudder that runs through their whole body. When Gerard recovers, they lean down for one more kiss before climbing off of Frank and collapsing onto the bed next to him.

Neither of them move for a long moment. They lie there breathing together, until Frank gets up to wipe the cum off his stomach and throw out the condom. He climbs back into bed and raises one arm in invitation, which Gerard gladly accepts. They tuck themself against Frank’s side and throw an arm over his chest, closing their eyes and sighing contentedly. Once they’re settled Frank lowers his arm and wraps it around their shoulders, fingers carding through their bright red hair.

He wants more than anything to doze off like this, but there’s something he wants to know first.

“Hey Gee?” He gets a lazy hum in response. “If we’re dating, and I’m your boyfriend, what do you want me to call you?”

“Hmm.” They’re quiet for a minute, and Frank thinks maybe they’ve fallen asleep, but then they say, “You can call me your boyfriend too, I guess. I don’t like any of the neutral words. Gender’s wack ‘n there’re no rules.” Frank has to laugh at that. They have a point.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Bert (picht on ao3) for beta reading (this is my first time writing smut) and to Frank for being the reason I wrote this, and to both of them for being awesome friends <3


End file.
